Onwards and Upwards
by Nothing But Bones
Summary: A therapy session turns into a battle of wills when Sweets reveals that Booth recently turned down a promotion - without consulting Brennan. Will Booth finally admit why he's so loath to leave? Or will Sweets' meddling stoke a wealth of unresolved issues?


**_A/N: I thought I'd give you a reprieve from my usual rambling. Suffice it to say: I know I've been AWOL for a while and my apologies for not being able to wrangle my muse on a more regular basis. She's still rather constipated, but I gave her a healthy dose of ex-lax and came up with this one-shot (not to imply that this is crap by default lol). Obviously, this isn't an update to 'Venturing into the Unknown' and yes, I know I suck, but something's better than nothing, right? You can catch me over on LJ in the interim... I'm still making music vids and having a merry old rant on a regular basis. _**

**_NB: Sweets may be slightly out-of-character in this story, as he actually serves a purpose ;) _**

* * *

Booth drummed his fingers repeatedly against the arm of the couch, and Brennan levelled a deliberate glance towards the clock on the far wall. Its measured rhythm reverberated throughout the otherwise silent room, and another ten seconds elapsed before Booth retrieved his cell phone from his pocket, sparing it an expectant glance in the hopes of being freed from captivity.

Sweets watched with fascination as - without any external stimulus - the partners turned to stare at one another, and even though their effortlessly synchronised body language was something he secretly delighted in, he couldn't help but frown when their lips curved into mirroring smirks; their eyes dancing with barely suppressed merriment. It seemed like they were actively conspiring against him. Again. Thankfully, he had plenty of ammunition to work with. Their passive-aggressive avoidance measures weren't going to wash with him today.

"OK, guys, if neither one of you is willing to get the ball rolling, then I have something that I'd like to broach with you."

Two sets of eyes turned to glance at him with a mixture of wariness and amusement and, seeing his excitable expression, the more striking pair rolled skyward.

Undeterred, Sweets turned his attention to Booth, leaning forwards slightly. "You've been offered two promotions in the last five months, Agent Booth, and you've declined to accept both of them. I'd like to explore the reasons why."

As Sweets had expected, Brennan turned to regard her partner with a perturbed expression.

"You were offered a promotion, and you didn't tell me?" she demanded, her anxiety almost completely masked by her accusatory tone.

That revelation didn't surprise Sweets in the slightest, but he affected a look of surprise. "That's very interesting, Agent Booth. You received an offer that could ultimately result in the dissolution of your partnership…" Sweets tried to suppress a smile at the way both parties flinched when he voiced that observation, "But you chose not to share it with Dr Brennan?"

"Look, it wasn't like that," Booth hastened to reassure his partner, barely managing to conceal his panicked expression as he sent a withering look in Sweets' direction. "There really wasn't anything to discuss, Bones. It was just some pen-pushing gig up in New York. It didn't appeal to me, so I turned it down; no big deal," he concluded with forced casualness, offering her a conciliatory smile.

"But why, Agent Booth?" Sweets persevered, trying to ignore the baleful stare that was clearly intended to stymie his line of questioning, "I mean, from what I understand, the position was much sought-after and came with a substantial pay rise. You would have been in charge of several other Agents, and without the risks associated with your current position, too."

"Is that true?" Brennan persisted, regarding him with the same kind of disconcerting intensity she usually reserved for the contents of her autopsy table.

"Well… yeah… in theory," Booth admitted with palpable reluctance, "But come on, Bones, I'm a man of action - not some bureaucratic bastard who issues orders and expects other people to carry them out. I want to be out there with you, solving cases and saving lives, not sat behind a desk filling out paperwork and schmoozing with the top brass."

Sweets looked on in amusement as Booth chanced a fleeting glance at his partner, who was watching him attentively. Smiling to himself, the psychiatrist hastily jotted down "_with you_" onto his notepad, underlining it several times, and then quickly turned his attention back to Agent Booth's desperate attempt to rationalise a decision that had quite clearly been borne of love.

"Money isn't everything, and I can live without the glory and the gold-plated name-tag on my door. You might think that I'm a mindless drone…" he nudged his partner lightly, and Sweets was quick to note that - rather than sharing in the moment of frivolity - Dr Brennan ducked her head and clasped her hands in her lap, "But we've got something good going on here; we make a difference. And that's what matters to me."

"Dr Brennan called you a mindless drone?" Sweets probed, feigning surprise as he fought to conceal his glee at this new-found snippet of information, "Wow. I mean, that must've hurt, right?"

"But he knows I didn't mean it," Brennan protested, looking at her partner for clarification. Booth gave her a reassuring smile that didn't quite meet his eyes, and then rapidly lowered his gaze, causing Brennan's brow to furrow with concern. She reached out, tentatively laying a hand on his forearm. "I didn't mean it, Booth."

"But it's not the first time you've questioned Agent Booth's intrinsic worth, Dr Brennan," Sweets pointed out, watching as she shamed-facedly acknowledged the truth in his words, "And yet, when faced with the opportunity to move to a new position where respect and appreciation are practically a pre-given, he chooses to continue working with you. Why do you think that is?"

"All right, Sweets, that's enough," Booth warned, the timbre of his tone lowering ominously as he took in his partner's wounded expression, "If you can't figure that one out for yourself, then you're obviously even more of an idiot than I thought. Bones is the finest in her field, and a damn good investigator, too. She demands the best of me, and I get a pretty good workout from trying to keep up with her." He glanced at his partner hopefully, "And I haven't let you down yet, right?"

"Right," Brennan confirmed definitively, offering him a warm smile.

"See?" Booth taunted, quirking a smug eyebrow in Sweets' direction, "Teamwork all the way, Sweets."

"Do you really believe that, Agent Booth? Or are you just happy for Dr Brennan to belittle you because she's the driving force behind your partnership? Because your own success is largely dependent on her capabilities, and without her, you would be just like any other Agent?"

"No!" Brennan exclaimed, forcibly enough to elicit a sharp glance from her partner. "I _know_ that Booth's role in our partnership is equally as important as mine. I wouldn't be able to do this without him. And you know that, too, Dr Sweets, because you determined that we have a symbiotic relationship in one of our very first sessions," she stated smugly.

"Yeah, maybe you should re-read your notes, _Dr _Sweets… or get the Bureau to sign you up for one of those shorthand seminars at Quantico. It must be hard to keep up with us sometimes," Booth concluded condescendingly, before clapping his hands authoritatively. "Now, we've answered your questions, so how about we take a rain check on this little fishing expedition?"

Brennan glanced at him in confusion, and he rolled his eyes, shaking his head despairingly. "Fishing, as in trawling for information, Bones? You catch my drift?" he deadpanned, wiggling his eyebrows up and down, and Sweets couldn't contain a snort of laughter, which Booth promptly fortified with one of his own.

"What?" Brennan demanded with a bewildered expression, "What are you laughing at?"

"Nothing, Bones… it's just… never mind."

"You know, I'm not the only one who occasionally says hurtful things," Brennan announced loudly, causing her partner's smile to gradually fade.

"What?"

Brennan's chin jutted out obstinately as she turned to appraise her partner. "Well... you're very critical of me sometimes, Booth… and dismissive on occasion, too."

"You're kidding me, right?" Booth snorted, shaking his head disbelievingly. "What's there to criticise? You're brainy, you're beautiful - "

Brennan flushed, but continued to regard him defiantly. "You tease me for being socially inadequate and mock my inductive reasoning."

"OK, give me an example."

"You called me a mutant when I asked if I could have a gun and told me that I could bore people to death instead. And you said that I piss off everyone around me."

"That was _ages_ ago, Bones. I can't believe you even remember that!" Booth scoffed, shaking his head despairingly.

"Well, it hurt my feelings," Brennan stated primly.

Booth stared at her incredulously. "Look, I'm sorry, all right? But when I allow a complete stranger to convince me that you're a total loser and I throw four years' worth of friendship back in your face – then we can talk about hurt feelings, OK?"

An uncomfortable silence descended on the room as Brennan immediately withdrew from the dispute; figuratively and literally. She instinctively moved to the edge of the couch, fidgeting with the sleeve of her jacket, and Sweets looked on in fascination as she ducked her head until her hair fell in front of her face, effectively concealing it from view. Her hands twisted in her lap, until Booth obviously couldn't stand it anymore and reached out to cover them with one of his own.

"I'm sorry," he murmured with genuine contrition, "I shouldn't have said that."

"No, it's fine, Booth," Brennan replied, in a somewhat brittle tone, "I think it's more than warranted given the circumstances. I behaved… appallingly, and I don't deserve your understanding. In fact, I should be the one apologising," she admitted quietly. "Your comments about my shortcomings were obviously grounded in the truth."

"No! Come on, Bones, don't say that," Booth implored, and when Brennan finally tilted her chin to meet his empathetic gaze, Sweets had to suppress a gasp. He'd never seen the Anthropologist looking so raw before, and observing the tumult of emotions swirling in her azure eyes, he felt like he'd been kicked in the gut. He could only imagine what effect this unprecedented display of vulnerability was having on Agent Booth, but something about the way he reacted told Sweets that it wasn't the first time he'd seen Dr Brennan unfurl.

"I'm sorry for hurting your feelings, Booth."

"Bones, it's OK." When Booth saw her doubtful expression, he lightly squeezed her arm. "Really. It's all water under the bridge now."

Brennan searched his expression intently, and then nodded barely perceptibly, offering him a small smile.

Sweets was tempted to let the moment resolve itself organically, but the temptation to push the issue while Dr Brennan's defences were down was almost overwhelming.

"Perhaps Dr Brennan's recent actions have made you wary of confiding in her, Agent Booth?" he goaded, and it took all of his chutzpah to continue when Booth virtually snarled at him in response. "Is that why you didn't tell her about the promotion? Because you were worried that she would judge you for not accepting an opportunity to advance your career? Maybe you didn't want her to think that you were content to live a life of mediocrity?"

"Booth isn't mediocre," Brennan snapped defensively, her eyes drilling into Sweets' with alarming ferocity, "What we do - _together_ - is hardly what you would call prosaic. Booth has played a crucial role in saving hundreds of lives, and anyone with an iota of perception would be able to ascertain that he is a superb Agent, which is clearly why he was offered a promotion in the first place. I wouldn't consider working with anyone else."

"So you must be relieved that he chose to stay, then, Dr Brennan?" Sweets ventured, trying not to smile as he finally got to the crux of the matter.

"I…" Brennan trailed off when Booth turned to appraise her, nervously evading his gaze, "If that's what he wants, then yes, of course I am."

"But surely you're both aware that you won't be able to undertake fieldwork forever?" Sweets hedged, somewhat moved by the identical looks of anguish that suddenly materialized on the partners' faces. "As a rational woman, Dr Brennan, you must be able to see that it would be far more pragmatic for Agent Booth to accept a position that offers him greater financial – and personal – security; a position that doesn't involve him endangering his life on a regular basis?"

Sweets sat back and watched Dr Brennan inwardly tussle with that question for a moment, and then turned his attention to a glowering Booth, "And as a loving father, Agent Booth, you must be able to recognise that the position in New York would enable you to provide a better and more stable life for your son? And it's only a few hours away, so you would still be able to see him on a regular basis."

"Look, I make damn sure my kid gets everything he needs, OK, Sweets?" Booth muttered, the anger coursing through his tense physique manifesting itself in his irate tone, "And Parker knows that catching the bad guys isn't always cut and dry. There are always going to be risks involved, but it's not like I'm out there actively gambling with my life, for God's sake."

Sweets looked intrigued. "So you wouldn't consider throwing yourself in front of a bullet a reckless course of action?"

Booth's glare intensified tenfold when he saw his partner abruptly stiffen. "If Bones was the intended recipient then, no, I wouldn't. Look, where are you going with this, Sweets? I had an offer; I turned it down - end of story. We don't have to turn it into Dr Phil's daily frickin' special."

Sweets sighed. "I realise this isn't a topic you're particularly comfortable with discussing, Agent Booth, but I think we're on the verge of making some real progress here. Dr Brennan has made it abundantly clear that she wouldn't be willing to offer her services to the FBI if you weren't available to work with her - "

"Yeah - well I am, and Cullen's certainly not complaining," Booth interposed, regarding the psychiatrist pointedly, "So what's your point, Sweets?"

Brennan frowned, crossing her arms. "Are you trying to insinuate that Booth feels obliged to stay here because of – "

"_No_, OK, Bones?" Booth hastily interjected, "Obligation doesn't come into it. I'm not the Bureau's goddamn retention officer. I mean, yeah, it would be a huge loss to them if you weren't available to consult on cases anymore, but I don't stick around to keep you sweet." He regarded her earnestly, "You and me, we're a package deal, Bones. I know damn well I'm never going to find another…" he cleared his throat audibly, "…working relationship… as rewarding as this one. I'd have to be crazy to give up the real deal to go and kick a bunch of rookies into touch – no matter how big the pay packet happens to be. Job satisfaction counts for something, right?"

"It counts for a great deal," Brennan confirmed, regarding him almost shyly. "I… I find our relationship very rewarding, too, Booth."

Sweets resisted the urge to dance a merry jig when he saw how touched Agent Booth was by his partner's words. "I'm curious. What would you do if Agent Booth _did_ decide to leave, Dr Brennan?"

Booth sent yet another scathing look in his direction. "It's not going to happen, Sweets, so there's no use crying over spilt milk."

"I wouldn't _cry_, Booth," Brennan protested, and Booth glanced at her with a wounded expression.

"You wouldn't?" When Brennan shook her head slightly, Booth folded his arms. "But you'd miss me, right?"

"Well… I'm sure there would be a period of adjustment," Brennan conceded, regarding him wryly.

"Oh, come on, Bones, you're telling me you wouldn't miss all those late nights at the diner and takeouts at the weekend?" Booth teased, gently jostling her elbow, "Or someone banging your door down every morning with a cup of coffee, just the way you like it? You should know that not everyone is as quick-off-the-mark as me in the verbal sparring arena, either. You'd be lucky to get a grunt out of some of these guys."

Seeing Brennan's conflicted - and vaguely distressed - expression, Sweets decided to dig a little deeper.

"It's interesting that all the things you're alluding to have nothing whatsoever to do with work, Agent Booth. Maybe my initial assumptions were wrong. Do you think that Dr Brennan has become dependent on you for emotional sustenance to some extent? Are you wary of moving on because it means leaving her behind; abandoning her like her family did all those years ago?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Brennan countered in a disparaging tone, but Booth's pained expression was all the substantiation Sweets required.

"Agent Booth?" he coaxed, offering him an understanding smile, which quickly faded when an expression of cold fury washed over Booth's face.

"I think you need to quit trying to play with the grown ups when you don't have a fucking clue what you're talking about, Sweets."

"I concur," Brennan chipped in, wrapping her arms around her midriff and scooting a little closer to the edge of the couch. "Booth shouldn't feel duty-bound to stay in DC for anyone's benefit, let alone mine. If he's offered a genuine opportunity for advancement, then he would be foolish _not_ to accept it." She spared her partner a surreptitious glance, "Because no-one deserves it more," she concluded softly.

"Yeah, well work isn't everything, Bones," Booth informed her earnestly, his gaze almost penetrating in its intensity, "Sometimes the people surrounding you count for a whole lot more… because when things get rough, they make it bearable - and when things are going great, they make it even better."

"Do you agree with that assessment, Dr Brennan?" Sweets asked curiously, entranced by the flush that was suddenly colouring the Anthropologist's features.

"As a generic sentiment… no, I don't. I have _always_…" she hesitated for a moment, lapsing into a thoughtful silence, "_Almost_ always found my work to be more satisfying than my interpersonal relationships, and I… I haven't encountered too many individuals who fulfil that criteria."

"But Agent Booth does?"

"I…" Brennan swallowed audibly, her eyes taking on the frantic look of a cornered animal desperately searching for an escape route, "My life had a purpose _before _Booth came along, you know?" she muttered defensively, avoiding her partner's gaze, "And, if circumstances necessitated a change in routine, it wouldn't take me long to adapt," she concluded with almost enough conviction to be convincing.

Sweets wondered if she was aware of the effect her words were having on her partner. Seeing Booth's obvious discomfort, Sweets decided to go in for the proverbial kill. "Oh, I don't doubt it, Dr Brennan. The way you dealt with Agent Booth's supposed death… clearly you were able to compartmentalize to the point where it almost seemed as though you didn't care at all. I have no doubt that, were he to leave, you would undergo a similar process of detachment."

Brennan stared at him for a moment, as if she was internally debating whether to question his assertion, and they both jumped a little when Booth abruptly leapt to his feet.

"You know what? I think… we've been here for over an hour, right?" Booth said in a strangled tone, eyeing the clock and striding towards the door before either of them could corroborate his assertion. "I'm just… I'm gonna go, OK?"

"Booth, wait!" Brennan implored, hastily jumping up to intercept his retreating form, but the Agent exited the room before she could stop him, leaving the door to slam violently in his wake. The jarring sound reverberated around the room, a palpable indicator of Booth's distress, and Sweets visibly jumped when Dr Brennan stalked towards him, yanking his notepad out of his hands.

"Why did you do that?" she demanded, anger emanating from every fibre of her being.

Sweets was rapidly beginning to realise that the Anthropologist could be just as intimidating as her partner. "Dr Brennan, I think it would be advisable for you to tell Agent Booth how you really feel. Obviously, he has some lingering insecurities – "

"And you clearly derive a perverse sense of pleasure from stoking them, don't you, Sweets?" Brennan deduced, her voice shaking with fury.

"No, not at all. I – " Sweets abruptly closed his mouth when Dr Brennan's index finger came to rest millimetres away from his eyeball, pointing at him accusatorily.

"_You_ are a manipulative little bastard, and we're not obliged to have anything to do with you anymore. So you can _forget _about using us as a case study for your pathetic excuse of a book, which will clearly be so tainted by your appalling lack of ethics that it will have no academic credibility _whatsoever_."

Sweets looked shell-shocked. "Dr Brennan – "

"I haven't finished yet," Brennan snapped unceremoniously, "Booth doesn't need you to preside over his interrogations; he has a better understanding of humanity than you _ever_ will, and I _certainly _won't miss the so-called benefits of your generic and highly subjective profiling. We don't need you – we never have, and if you try to jeopardise our partnership again, I will report you to the APA and have your goddamn license revoked for what you forced me to endure when Booth... when he…" she trailed off, blinking rapidly.

"I'm sorry, Dr Brennan," Sweets said with genuine regret, "If I'd known – "

"Principle A: Beneficence and Non-maleficence," Brennan interjected, her stony expression becoming positively arctic when she saw the look of grim recognition on the psychiatrist's face. "Does that sound familiar to you, Dr Sweets? 'Psychologists strive to benefit those with whom they work and take care to do no harm?'" She glared at him unrepentantly as he lowered his gaze. "You let me think he was _dead._"

Sweets couldn't offer anything in the way of exonerating himself, so he merely nodded in compliance, wincing at the look of unabashed disgust on Dr Brennan's face. Then she, too, made a hasty retreat, and the door shook on its hinges for a second time.

* * *

"Booth, I know you're in there," Brennan yelled, pounding persistently against her partner's door. "Would you please let me in? I need to talk to you!"

She prepared for another round of incessant rapping, and stumbled forwards slightly when the door suddenly sprung open, revealing the half-amused and half-reproachful countenance of her partner.

"What do you want, Bones?"

"You left me stranded in Sweets' office," she reminded him pointedly, "I had to call a cab."

Booth rolled his eyes. "What, and you came here to chew me out for it? You want me to ferry you the rest of the way home and save you a couple of bucks?"

"No!" Brennan rolled her eyes, pushing past her partner and taking a seat on his well-worn couch, "Don't be ridiculous, Booth. I came here because I…" she faltered slightly, her expression suddenly becoming earnest, "Because I want to know why you left."

"He was pissing me off," Booth said simply, but tersely, "And I'm really not in the mood to rehash it all over again, so unless you want to sit here and watch the game with me - _quietly_, then you should probably leave."

He flicked on the TV, fiddling with the remote until a baseball diamond filled the screen, and then cranked up the volume so the din of the crowd made it impossible to engage in civilised conversation.

"Fine." Brennan walked into the kitchen, emerging with a beer for Booth and a glass of orange juice for herself. She sank down besides him, studying him surreptitiously while he feigned interest in the television screen.

"Will you explain the rules to me?" Brennan ventured after a prolonged silence, leaning towards her partner and raising her voice to ensure that Booth heard her request.

"They're pretty self-explanatory," Booth countered curtly, forcing Brennan to lapse into quietude. He saw the hurt register on her features, and he could only endure it for so long. "What, you're just gonna sit there and say nothing? No running commentary about how this is a poor man's substitute for fighting in a war? No snarky remarks about me being a kid trapped in a man's body?"

"Perhaps I was somewhat judgemental in the past," Brennan conceded evenly. "I enjoyed watching your performance on the hockey pitch, Booth. You were a very proficient player, and the atmosphere…" she trailed off abruptly when Booth snorted in disbelief, lowering her gaze in the face of his incredulous expression. "I'm sorry, I'm obviously in your way. I should go."

Booth hesitated for a moment, but didn't offer any protests, and Brennan hastily donned her discarded jacket, pausing on her way to the door. "I just…"

Booth glanced at her impatiently, "Just what, Bones?"

"I just wanted you to know that…" Brennan turned away from him, laying her unused glass on the kitchen counter, "That I did care."

She visibly tensed when the TV was abruptly muted, and suddenly she had Booth's intense - and undivided - attention.

"You did?"

"Of course I did!" she exclaimed, her tone laced with indignant anguish. "What kind of monster do you think I am?" She regarded her partner with tear-filled eyes, stalking across the room to stand directly in front of him.

"I cared, Booth. You have no idea how much. And I tried to block it out, I really did, but there were times when I… I just _couldn't_, and that scared me so much, because it _hurt. _It hurt until I couldn't breathe anymore, and you… you weren't there to make it better. So I _had_ to try and forget, but it was so hard, Booth, because you were _everywhere_." She shook her head, swiping at her eyes with the sleeve of her jacket. "No-one knew; everyone thought I was coping... compartmentalizing. But I wasn't. Not really. When I had to stop working, I didn't know what to do... I..."

"Hey…" Booth tugged on his partner's hand, pulling her onto the couch besides him in one fluid motion. She was quick to sink into his embrace, and he bit back a wave of nausea when he felt how violently her heart was pounding. Her breathing was ragged, and Booth squeezed his eyes shut when he felt a puddle of moisture soaking through the fabric of his T-shirt. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," he murmured, "You shouldn't have had to go through that alone, Bones. I should've found a way to tell you myself; but I didn't know. I just... I didn't know."

"It's OK," Brennan reassured him after a moment's respite, awkwardly withdrawing from his embrace. "I just didn't want you to think that Sweets was right - that I wouldn't miss you if you decided to leave. We spend so much time together, Booth, that your absence would inevitably have an affect on me. Still, that shouldn't have any bearing on your decision," she hastened to add, "Because the circumstances are hardly comparable and I would obviously be fine." She faltered for a moment, briefly evading his gaze.

"When Sully asked me to leave, you told me that I should go with him; you didn't try to stop me... even when my decision could have had ramifications for your own career. I hope you know that I want what's best for you, too, Booth."

"Look, I wasn't being altruistic, Bones... I was being a coward," Booth confessed, leaning back to regard her sheepishly, "Do you have any idea how much I wanted to beg you to stay?"

"But I didn't know that at the time," Brennan protested. "I thought… I thought that you didn't care either way… until you turned up at the marina looking like the cat that got the budgerigar."

Booth began to convulse with laughter, and Brennan's lips curved upwards in response. "What?"

"It's the cat that got the canary, Bones," Booth explained, his eyes twinkling with affection, "You see that nice bit of alliteration, there? Well, it's kind of what makes that catchphrase… catchy." He reached out to remove a strand of hair from her damp cheek, and Brennan's breath hitched slightly when the pad of his thumb softly brushed against her skin.

"Technically, it's an idiom, Booth, not a catchphrase."

"Well, then, I stand corrected… _again_," Booth teased, resting his forehead against his partner's shoulder.

"Booth?" Brennan ventured, tilting her head so they were almost nose-to-nose.

"Yeah?" Booth murmured absent-mindedly, both distracted and enthralled by his partner's proximity.

"I just… I don't want you to stay because of me... because of some misguided concern for my welfare. I mean, of course I'd miss you, but I have my work and that's… that's enough. I don't…" she swallowed audibly, "I don't want to hold you back."

Booth shifted slightly, regarding her intently, "But what if I _wanted _to stay because of you, Bones?"

Brennan blinked up at him, her expression a mismatched combination of hope and confusion. "But why?"

"Because what you just described - what you felt like when you thought I was dead?" Booth expounded, ducking his head, "Well, that's how I feel when I think about walking away from you, Bones."

Brennan regarded him thoughtfully. "But that doesn't make any sense. I wouldn't be gone forever, Booth… you could call me, or come visit."

"I know, but it's not… it's not the same." He sighed, and seemed to be waging some kind of internal war before he finally raised his head, pinning his partner with a penetrating gaze. "Look, we have something here, Bones." He clasped his partner's forearm when he felt her stiffen, effectively holding her in place, "And if you're not ready to acknowledge it yet, then that's fine. I'll wait for as long as it takes. But if you don't feel it - if you can't even _see_ it - then maybe… maybe I _should _go. Because I'm not sure how much longer I can live with this ache in my gut that stems from loving someone who's never going to love me back. And, if that's the case, then maybe the distance would make it easier for me to stop deluding mysel -"

Booth abruptly trailed off when Brennan cupped his face in her delicate hands. Her eyes were a hue he'd never seen before – soft, instead of sharp, and they were swimming with a fresh sheen of tears. His heart momentarily stopped beating when Brennan tentatively, but tenderly pressed her lips against his own; and then it began hammering erratically when the contact lingered for long enough to soothe away his misgivings.

"You're not deluding yourself, Booth," Brennan murmured breathlessly, in a reverent tone that he'd only ever dreamed of hearing from her before.

Then she was kissing him again, and Booth was overcome with the relief of finally being able to succumb to that perfect moment - of not having to return home to an empty apartment and lament over another missed opportunity. His partner's mouth melded seamlessly against his own – and just like every other facet of this remarkable woman, Bones' lips were talented, passionate and sweeter than appearances would suggest. They both moaned a little when her tongue sought sanctuary inside his mouth, and Booth wound his fingers through Brennan's silken hair, readily deepening the kiss.

When Brennan reluctantly pulled back to seek reassurance and reclaim her breath, Booth knew that her wonderstruck expression perfectly mirrored his own, and he instinctively reached for her, fortifying their connection. Brennan sank unreservedly into his embrace, clinging to him convulsively, and he pressed his lips to her temple, breathing a contented sigh. They rocked back and forth, loath to let go after spending too long wrenching themselves away from the inevitable.

"We'll take it slow, OK, Bones? One day at a time," Booth murmured into his partner's fragrant hair, "because I think… I think we might have something special here; something worth fighting for."

Brennan stilled for a moment, and Booth instinctively froze, wondering whether he had pushed the boundaries of presumption to extremes. "I'm not talking fairytales and happily ever afters, Bones, but you and me… I think we could last, you know? I _want_ us to last."

Brennan pulled back, clasping her hands behind her partner's head and regarding him attentively, "Statistically speaking, that's highly unlikely..." her stomach plummeted when she saw Booth's crestfallen expression, "_But..._ if there was anyone I could contemplate spending a lifetime with, it would be you, Booth."

Booth's features brightened considerably, "You're killing me with the romance here, Bones," he deadpanned, but then his smile gradually faded, and he regarded her intently. "Do you really mean that? You really think that I can be enough for you?"

"Yes," Brennan confirmed with a soft smile, gently smoothing her fingertips over her partner's furrowed brow, "And… I'm sorry if I ever made you feel inadequate, Booth," she said quietly. "You mean more to me than you can possibly imagine, but I know I haven't always been particularly adept at demonstrating that fact." She hesitated for a moment, her captivating azure eyes roving over the chiseled planes of her partner's familiar features. "I..."

When she didn't endeavour to finish her sentence after a significant pause, Booth lightly tickled her ribs. "You _what, _Bones?"

"Nothing. It doesn't matter," Brennan fought to withhold a smile, folding her arms obstinately in an attempt to ward off her partner's impromptu assault. She let out a squawk of indignation when Booth flipped her onto her back, pinning her to the sofa and straddling her upper thighs as he continued to torment her, digging his fingers into her vulnerable ribcage.

"Say it," Booth demanded, his eyes crinkling with merriment as Brennan squirmed underneath him, finally allowing herself to dissolve into laughter.

"All right, stop it, Booth, or I'll kick your ass," she warned him between bouts of unabashed mirth, grabbing his hands and regarding him intently. "I was going to say that I think I might be in love with you," she declared solemnly, "But if this is going to become a regular occurrence, then I might have to reconsider."

Booth grinned, easing Brennan onto her side so he could lie on the couch besides her. He wrapped an arm around her midriff, resting a hot palm against her stomach and tenderly caressing her abdomen through the fabric of her blouse.

"That's better," Brennan mumbled approvingly, nestling against her partner as he smoothed back her hair and began exploring the column of her neck with his all-too-adept mouth. She revelled in the attention, and her stomach tightened pleasurably when Booth's hand slipped beneath her blouse to sensuously tantalise her bare skin. It tingled pleasantly in his wake and, as his dexterous ministrations continued, she lightly stroked his arm, allowing her eyelids to flutter shut as she contemplated the heady possibility of waking up like this every morning. She could feel Booth watching her attentively, and she slowly opened her eyes, inexplicably moved by the look of palpable adoration on his features.

"You're beautiful, Bones," he murmured reverently, and when he reached out to tenderly caress her cheek, Brennan seized the opportunity to pull him into another blissfully languorous kiss.

Instinctively, she knew this was something she would never tire of, and that sentiment was only solidified when Booth gently tilted her chin upwards, shifting to attain a better angle. His sculpted chest melded against her breasts and the weight of him atop her was all just a little too intoxicating. Her nipples were suddenly aching for a modicum of friction, and the warmth of him washed over her, causing her own skin to flush with anticipation. Brennan had never been so relaxed – and yet so aroused – in her entire life, and it was an unusual and exhilarating combination. When Booth's tongue skilfully breached her mouth, expertly tussling with her own, she allowed him to suck and tease at her until her whole body was a languid hub of pure sensation.

"Booth?" she murmured, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Mmm…" he mumbled against her collarbone, and she instantly regretted jerking against him when he began lightly sucking at her pulse point, because now she was all-too-aware of his own tangible arousal... and it really was _quite_ tangible.

"Oh _god_," she hissed rapturously when Booth experimentally ground against her, and he broke into a mischievous smile.

"I thought you didn't believe in God?" he demanded, quirking an eyebrow as his hands stilled against her baby-soft skin.

"Booth..." Brennan protested, entwining her fingers with her partner's and regarding him with something vaguely resembling a pout.

"But if you're having some kind of religious epiphany, Bones..."

"Shut up." She arched upwards to claim his lips again, and this time, the kiss was more heated than exploratory. Brennan pulled back, feeling giddy and slightly overwhelmed, and turned shining eyes and flushed cheeks in her partner's direction.

"Booth? When you said slow…"

Booth grinned, his eyes dancing with a mixture of barely suppressed desire and affectionate amusement as he rested a hand against Brennan's upper thigh, tracing an intimate pattern against the tight-fitting fabric of her jeans. Feeling her leg quiver slightly in response, he brought his own thigh to rest between the apex of her impossibly long legs, exerting enough pressure to make her buck against him and whimper her approval.

"Well, you're the scientist, Bones. Everything's relative, right?"

"Actually..." Brennan began, and then promptly trailed off when her partner began unbuttoning her blouse. "I was just going to say that Einstein…" She licked her lips when Booth's hands fleetingly traversed the valley of her breasts and watched attentively as he loosened the last two buttons, gently easing the fabric aside.

"What was that, Bones?" Booth asked innocently, obnoxiously pleased that he had finally found a way to disrupt Brennan's train of thought. She was a very… focused woman, after all, and those dazzling azure orbs were even more mesmerising when they were clouded with arousal. He sought out her intense gaze, wordlessly seeking her consent, and she fervently nodded her approval, flushing at the unabashed appreciation in Booth's eyes as he delicately disrobed her. Her blouse fell to the floor, leaving her clad in a lacy purple bra, and her erect nipples were clearly visible beneath the flimsy fabric, aching for his attention.

"Booth, we should…" Brennan gestured aimlessly towards his bedroom door, sucking in a sharp breath as his fingers traversed the length of her bare arms, stopping to caress her throat before they descended towards…

"BOOTH. Bedroom. _Now_," she ordered, her breath hitching as he finally encompassed her breasts in his hands, kneading them with far too much expertise for his own good. She cried out when he lightly tweaked her nipples through the fabric of her bra, circling them with his fingertips until an empathetic pang resonated powerfully in her groin. "Your back…" she reminded him feebly, in a somewhat strangled tone.

"There's nothing wrong with my back," Booth protested, but Brennan mustered every ounce of her willpower and crossed her arms over her chest, regarding him defiantly.

"Booth…"

"Fine," he huffed, bringing his lips to rest against her forehead. She felt them curve into a smile and then, before she had the chance to react, he effortlessly scooped her off the couch, tucking an arm beneath her knees and cradling her against his chest as he carried her towards the bedroom.

Brennan wanted to protest at his Neanderthal-like behaviour, but instead she found herself wrapping her arms around his neck and snuggling closer, pressing her lips to the point where his collar gave way to bare skin. There was no denying it anymore. Somewhere along the line, Seeley Booth had swept her off her feet.


End file.
